Bubble Bath
by FosterthePhoenix
Summary: Hermione has some "me time" in the bath tub. Eventual two-shot


**Bubble Bath**

**AN: **Hey guys! Just got a new computer, so will be updating a lot more now, to appease the readers of Time, Rewritten, who have waited so patiently. I haven't forgotten you! This little plot bunny has been nagging at me since a bubble bath of my own; it practically wrote itself. So, here it is; my first mature rated fic; just dipping my toes in! This time…I hope you guys like ;)

Hermione Potter stepped out of her robe, eyes set on the big bathtub full of thick, foamy bubbles. She was certainly going to enjoy this; a glass of wine, a good book, and a hot tub full of _Weasley's Multiplying Bubble Potion. _

She padded naked to the tub side, stepped over the ledge, and eased herself down among the frothy bubbles, delighting in the heat of the water and the silky smooth of the bubbles as they made contact with her flesh. She let out a sigh of relief, and settled in, flicking her wand to keep her book aloft in front of her andpicking up her wine with her hand to take a sip. _Perfect. _

It would have been total bliss, except it was missing one thing; her husband, Harry. Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she sighed as she put away her book and wine and lay back in the tub, thinking of him. He was off on an important auror mission, and wasn't due back for another week. Hermione missed him dreadfully. He was her husband, after all, and besides…she had important news for him.

Hermione smiled as her hand lightly caressed the oh so slight curve of her belly. She was carrying their first child.

She couldn't wait to tell him. She imagined the pride and joy she'd see in his face when she told him, how his green eyes would fill with love for her and their unborn child, how he would take her in his arms and kiss her full on the mouth, his hand caressing her belly, gently at first, then, his movements becoming more hasty, moving up to feel the full, taunt mounds of her breasts before drifting ever lower…

Hermione's eyes snapped open and she sat up. Her chest was heaving and her skin was red, and it was not because of the warm water. She missed her husband in more ways than one. He had been gone for nearly a month and Hermione longed for his touch. She felt her hand drift to the very spot Harry's had in her daydream, but stopped herself. Her and Harry had made a pact, on the last night he was home, in bed after a couple rounds of very passionate love-making. He had turned to her, as they panted, sweaty and intertwined, and proposed a deal; neither of them pleasured themselves until he had come back. Hermione, in the heat of the moment, laughed, agreed, and then began kissing Harry, sparking another round of love-making.

Hermione smiled to remember it, and felt a tingling warmth in between her legs as she remembered their bodies, coiled and hurriedly bumping together, to a soundtrack of moaning and panting, gasps and groans. Without necessarily willing it to, Hermione's left hand began to lightly circle and pinch her already pert cinnamon brown nipples, as her right hand trailed its way slowly down the curve of her belly, over her thighs, and to her warm little mound, where her hand was wanted most. She hesitated. She had promised Harry, after all. But at the moment, he wasn't here and she needed it. So without further ado, she slid a finger inside herself, giving a little gasp of pleasure; it had been too long.

She was in no hurry; nowhere to go, the water was still warm, and when it came to pleasing herself, well, Hermione liked to take things nice and slow.

She slid her finger in and out of her warm, tight cunt, her eyes closed and her mouth a perfect **O. ** Her free hand rubbed her breasts, circling the areola, with a tight pinch to the nipple every now and again.

Foamy bubbles clung to her wet skin, making white-rose scented mounds in between her breasts, on her thighs, over her burgeoning belly. Hermione breathed in their delectable scent and remembered her and Harry's first time as a married couple. In an effort to be romantic, Harry had conjured roses all over the room, but they were fully-thorned roses instead of just rose petals, making the whole room a prickly pit, with only the very center of their bed free.

Nevertheless, Harry, ever a brave Gryffindor, scooped his new wife up, and braved the thorny tangle to carry her and deposit her on the bed, and, after getting the thorns unstuck from himself, they had enjoyed passionate sex to the scent of fresh roses.

Hermione replayed that steamy night in her head as she fingered herself, remembering the feeling of Harry's hands clutching her, of his lips on her skin, his hard, full member pounding in to her…

She moaned, and, panting, almost near climax, eyes closed tight…

"Well, well, well, Mrs. Potter."

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin as her eyes flew open, and her hands flew to cover herself.

Standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame, arms crossed and smirking, was none other than…

"Harry," Hermione breathed, before jumping up, bubbles and all, and running to hug her husband.

He picked her up and kissed her passionately, spinning her about before dipping her down to finish the deep kiss.

When they broke away, all Hermione could gasp out was, "B-but you weren't supposed to be home until next week!"

Harry grinned cheekily. "I caught up with those old deatheaters quicker than expected. And it certainly looks like I caught you off surprise…"

Hermione blushed, staring at a spot of bubbles that she had left on Harry's shirt. He tilted her chin up so she was looking into his bright green eyes.

"Well, it looks like you've been a naughty girl, Mrs. Potter." He was smirking down at her, lust clear in his eyes.

Hermione gave a sultry smile back. "So it looks like you have a lesson to teach me, Mr. Potter."

_**To be continued…**_


End file.
